


New Shoes as a Last Resort

by calleryfield



Series: The Role She Held Before [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, hint of tsumugi/kirumi, pregame personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calleryfield/pseuds/calleryfield
Summary: [Spoilers] An addition to my pregame Kirumi theory.The day of the 53rd season's auditions has arrived. She knows her brother will go to the auditions.She had kept praying, hoping that the day would not come, but no matter what, the sun continued to set and rise for a new day; time defying her pleas and cries. She was powerless, as time crushes her beneath more worry and crying. She was drowning in her own tears, and she couldn’t take it any longer.





	New Shoes as a Last Resort

She had kept praying, hoping that the day would not come, but no matter what, the sun continued to set and rise for a new day; time defying her pleas and cries. She was powerless, as time crushes her beneath more worry and crying. She was drowning in her own tears, and she couldn’t take it any longer.

There’s only so much she can do when she’s just that weak. 

And of course, the day comes along, as easy as the sun rises, but hard for her to bear to wake up to. The light peaking through her curtains beckon for her to awaken, but the comforts of her blankets that shut her away from reality beg her to remain. Biting on her lips, she can already feel  _ him _ slipping away by burying herself underneath. 

_ Of course she’d be crying instantly when she wakes up today! What did she expect from herself? _

She sniffles and muffles a cry into her blanket, remaining on her bed. Her body just seems far too heavy to try to lift herself up, as though her curled up body is fastened down. 

_ Of course, she’d let him slip away easily like that, too. _ Angrily, she thinks to herself, running both of her hands through her messy gray hair, pulling at the roots in agitation with the thought. She’s already screamed silently so many times before in frustration at her inability. Only now, she gives in and just prays that whatever he is planning, he will give up. 

_ You think he’d give up his dream like that? What kind of sister are you?  _ Her thoughts proceedingly get louder from the day he tells her. 

_ “And then  _ I’ll  _ be a part of my favorite show! It’s a dream come true, sis!”  _  He said with the greatest joy she ever saw in his entire life. Never had she seen since a big toothy grin from any other; his joy was overwhelming for even her, the one who wants him to feel nothing  _ but  _ joy. 

Yet, she hopes that he will forget or believe that the auditions were on a different day, or even the auditions were a lie — some contest that is some ruse to gain profit and give nothing in return. 

No matter, she struggles to push herself out from beneath the comforter. The day ruthlessly must carry on; she still has to go to school. Maybe, surprisingly, the thought of going to school comforts the weak girl. Maybe he’ll be responsible and go to school instead (but that wish is quick to wither away. Who is she kidding herself?). 

So the day goes on, as she carries it out, regardless of what may be bothering her. 

  
  


And just like that, the day blows away, but that’s because whatever is clouding her mind, it blockades her thoughts from letting the teacher’s lessons penetrate her brain. 

She just keeps imagining her brother, if her brother had passed those dreaded auditions for that grotesque and vicious show. If he had been accepted, she imagines that he would be so happy — so excited to be there or just by the fact he was accepted at all. However, his excitement lurks around dangerous thoughts; he’d certainly be agitated, shaking in overwhelming glee. And being in that condition, where his beloved show hypnotizes him into following its harsh rules, he wouldn’t dare hesitate to… 

She didn’t mean to imagine such awful things, but her mind just kept wandering there, and her heart could not take it. Many times, she had to excuse herself midway through class to hurry to the restroom. It’s a knife straight into her stomach that induced her to puke in the toilet, and she had felt nauseated all day that her body had grown weak within the span of a school day. Either she would be running to the restroom to puke in the toilet or just to dab her eyes with a tissue and wash her face with some cold water so she doesn’t look like she was just crying in the bathroom stalls for five minutes. 

Even with the crying and the puking, the girl still manages to go back home, teetering in her path over but still handling herself fine. She isn’t sure if her wavering trail is from how weak her body is feeling after the course of the day or is it from the thoughts recurring in her mind of her brother hurriedly putting on his favorite black hat and running to the auditions repeating like the sound of her steps on the sidewalk. She tries to calm her nerves, biting down her lips and gums, even switching to biting her nails.

Those methods only worked for the trip back home. As soon as she’s through the door of her house, as soon as she closes the door and locks it, her anxious eyes dart immediately to the floor. 

There’s nothing there. 

His shoes — they aren’t on the floor like they should be. 

Instantly, her chest begins to burn and her stomach drops. Throwing her bag aside, she lunges forward to the stairs, grabbing hold of the handrails and taking a step.

But she stops herself. 

_ What a coward you are. Are you really that worthless? _

No. She tries to rationalize: perhaps he just joined a club today at his school, or he is still on his way home. Maybe he’s actually out buying food. 

She nods frantically at that thought.

_ You might be wrong though. _

Fingers drumming the handrail, she finds herself swaying her body, either to go up the stairs or remain at the bottom level. Surely, her rational thoughts are correct. Shrugging and attempting to smile, she takes a step back down and turns away from the stairs. Yes. He’ll come back home anytime soon, so she’ll just have to welcome him with a nice — 

_ You really think he’d want to come back home to you?  _

_ Would he even care for coming home? _

_ Do  _ you  _ even truly care about your brother?  _

She’s trembling again, clenching her hands into fists and biting down on her chapped lips. 

Enough. 

Enough trying to rationalize. She has to go. She has to go check his room. 

Again, she hurls herself to the stairs, running up the steps to get to the top floor. She turns down into the hallway and immediately to the closest room.

The door is closed. She grabs hold of the knob, turning it rapidly and pushing inward.

“Brother!” She yells, voice cracking in fear. 

But no one is there. She freezes by the door, eyes widen. Her eyes look toward his desk, but she doesn’t see the black hat that he always wears. He’s not here… at all.

_ Too late. _

The tears. They’re coming again.  _ Of course they are. _ What would she have expected? She should have taken the hint when her brother told her before. Even so, why? Why is she having a hard time taking it in?

_ A selfish child wanting to take up a better title for herself. _

That’s what she thought of herself. Is she doing this just to make herself look good, or is it out of sincere care? 

_ Standing here and doing nothing.  _

That’s exactly what she’s doing, staring and crying about the empty room, where her brother’s spirit lingers in the things he’s left behind. How could he have given his life up so carelessly? 

She slowly walks in toward his bed covered in bleak black bedsheets. She lays herself on top of his bed and begins to cry loudly. Painful, piercing cries echo into the air and reverberate in the room. 

_ Weak. Weak.  _

That’s all she’ll ever be. She can’t do anything right. Not for her life nor for those she loved. 

And the loss of her brother is proof of her pathetic weakness. Not even her love for her brother powered her to stop him back then. 

Her wails grow louder and louder, despite all her efforts of trying to muffle her screams into the bed; the sheets below her face wet from her tears. Her voice grows hoarse, and she coughs and chokes on her tears. 

She repeats the final time she saw him, when she was a mess grasping at his sleeve and crying without peeping a word to him. The way he was so happy to leave with a big smile — so carefree as usual. She couldn’t tell if his nonchalant attitude or her inability to do anything about him is what frustrated her more.

And she lays there, screaming at herself.

_ Weak! Weak! _

_ Worthless! Worthless! _

She screams at herself for a long time, until her eyes hurt from crying and being puffy — until she’s exhausted herself from crying. Numb from the pain in her chest and stomach. 

When she finds herself too tired to cry anymore, she raises herself up and off the bed. She looks around her little brother’s room once again, walking around the bed solemnly toward the desk. Her face grimaces, glancing at all the merchandise he has in his room, scattered all over the place. An urge overwhelms her to destroy all of it for taking her brother away, but instead, a bittersweet grin graces her pale face. She couldn’t do that; not when this could possibly be the last of her brother. If she hadn’t been so weak, she could have actually had a good bond with her brother. Her fingers trace the merchandise and toys on the desk. 

At the edge of the desk, she sees a piece of paper — black with a striking red lightning sign. 

The audition flyer. 

She grabs hold of the paper and brings the paper to her face. 

An idea.

She has an idea, but her stomach sickens at the idea. 

She knows where this place is. It’s so close by.

She checks her watch and back to the flyer. She still has time.

Maybe she can finally do something right this time.

_ She has to do this right. She has to. _

She repeats in her head — a mantra that revitalizes her. She finds herself feeling more energetic than ever before — a sudden high and a rush of adrenaline that she must take on. She has to do this. 

_ She must.  _

_ Because that is her duty as a sister. _

  
  
  


She adjusts her glasses in a dimly lit room, with only the lights of the computer screen brightening her surroundings. Her lips pursed, gray blue eyes focused solely the screen and nothing else, as she sits with her legs crossed on the desk chair. She’s beginning to feel tired from the bright screen and watching the same set of remarks over and over again.

Over and over. A broken record with different voices and faces blurring into one. 

She’s making her way through all the tapes she has, and she’s practically thrown half of them away just because of the same dull statements.

“I love your show!”

“Been such a fan!” 

“I’d make a great fit!”

She appreciates the kind words, but wouldn’t one think that they would say more than just that in their audition if they wanted to be a part of the show they loved?

She’s getting migraines hearing the same words being repeated. It might even drive her insane if she hears more. 

Still, she’s glad she’s picked out a couple of people here and there, especially the most recent audition — a mysterious boy in black showing up, hiding his face under a matching black hat, mumbling in a euphoric tone his joys as a fan but his willingness to do whatever in the show. She even notes down for his tape that perhaps he’d be a rather  _ fun  _ character to use in the next show.

“Thanks for your love, but you wouldn’t make a good fit.” The girl adjusts her glasses before deleting the current tape from her computer. 

She moves her mouse, letting the white arrow hover over the next file down her list. Reading the name of the file, her eyes widen in surprise. 

“Didn’t I… Didn’t I just watch this? Why’d I get an extra copy?” She grumbles, squinting to reread the name to check her vision. Perhaps the name just happens to be common… or this boy is just wondrously obsessed (which she quite welcomes; it’s quite admirable). 

Her lips perk up on both ends into a small smile, thinking of that boy’s dedication to the series before she clicks twice on the file, making a window open. 

Before her in the window is the same wooden floor as all the other auditions, all from a heightened camera angle that looks down at the individual.

Her brows furrow in curiosity. Where is the black hat that she expected to see? The faded yellow eyes of infatuation, hypnotized by being in the presence of his favorite show’s director? The great confidence in his stance? 

All of it is gone, replaced by some pathetic girl who bears an odd resemblance in facial features to whom she had expected, but this girl’s eyes — they weren’t as eager as the boy’s. No, these eyes are filled with worry, a wavering sense of determination like the tides of the sea — green like tree leaves in the summer — unsure of themselves yet committed to her motives. Dark silver hair that curls perfectly around the girl’s pale white cheeks. A timid pose, hands folded around each other and knees turning in toward each other, visibly shaking in sight of the camera. She would have thought, judging from the scared girl’s height, the scared girl would not look as terrified.  

_ A fragile porcelain doll. _ The girl thinks, as she scoots her rolling chair toward the screen. She rests her chin in her hands, as her hands hold up her head while she watches the girl on the screen. 

“U-Um, hello… there,” The silver haired girl stutters, hands fidgeting against each other. “I… um…I’m auditioning for… D-Dangan...ronpa. Danganronpa.” 

If the girl watching this tape wasn’t so fixated on the way the shaking figure looks, she would have quickly skipped over this audition tape. She’s got a whole pile of auditions to go through and yet she decided to stick to watching this ridiculous girl, whose demeanor does not match her looks. Perhaps the contrast is what compels her to watch more. 

The girl in the screen continues, lowering her hands and keeping her eyes away from the camera, “I, ah… This is going to sound really stupid… But I… I actually don’t want to audition. I  _ never  _ thought I wanted to. I.. I don’t even like Danganronpa… all that much…”

The dark blue haired girl’s hands come slamming against the desk in shock, turning her ear toward the screen as though she wants the auditioning girl to repeat what she said. In disbelief, she uses the mouse to rewind the video, only to hear the girl say the exact same thing as the blue haired girl thought the trembling girl said. She pauses the video and leans back in her chair. Immediately, she rolls her eyes in frustration. How can someone  _ not  _ like the show? Then why is this weak girl wasting her time here? Yet, watching the tape, the director could only feel more compelled to see the auditioner’s motive here, while also inducing more disbelief and frustration on the director. 

So the girl decides to press play.

“... I don’t even like Danganronpa...all that much…I don’t even watch it! I get queasy when I try to watch it… You... might think it’s rather weird for someone like me to be appearing for this audition, and surely, there are other individuals auditioning that… love the show more than I do.” The girl droops her shoulders, her tone like she is doting on something in her mind. Yet, she continues, picking up a stronger tone, “But… Even though I don’t like Danganronpa, I… I wanted to audition because m-my brother is…”

Her brother? The watchful eyes widen. She drags the window of the current audition to the side of the screen before she pulls up the audition video for that obsessive boy. As soon as the new video window pops up on the screen, she finds herself nodding. She should have figured as soon as she had noted the resemblance before. 

How odd… She wouldn’t have figured that the crazed boy would have someone so weak and fragile like this as his sister, especially when they share the same face. 

She clicks play on the silver haired girl’s video.

“My brother is a big fan of your show… And.. I know how the show goes… A-And I know it must be some special effects thing that you do to make it… as … it is. B-But, I couldn’t help but feel like… I don’t know — that maybe it’s real. You see, I’m… his older sister… It’s probably hard to even imagine… I fail to believe it either… I wish I were a better older sister for him… But now he’s gone too far… and I…” The girl lowers her head until all her gray hair blocks her face. She brings her hands up to her face as she yells into her hands, “I.. I couldn’t just sit to the side anymore! I spent… so much of our time passively watching from behind him, never looking out for his actions because I was too scared… What kind of sister am I to dismiss him so easily?” 

The girl sobs softly into her hands before she rubs her arm against her face once before dropping them to her side. “I thought maybe… if I had followed him here… Maybe, if I had been accepted with him into the show, I could become someone different. I could be the sister that he deserves, even if we’re just acting… or whatever the case may be. That is why I…”

She looks up defiantly at the camera — an unexpected change in personality, eyes burning with something new amongst the flowing tears. “That is why I must become a part of Danganronpa should he be accepted. Please listen to this request of mine: accept me if you accept him. Let me become someone stronger to tend to my brother better than I had ever done before. Let me be someone different — someone with more courage and more intuned with her heart to do better for those she loves.” 

The video stops, the image of the silver haired girl’s determined face remaining. The bespectacled girl’s eyes had gone wide from the unexpected speech from this weak girl. Earlier, this girl looked like she would have collapsed on herself before her audition ended, but now, with her wish, with her green eyes looking directly into the camera, as though the two of them were face to face with each other, the director has been rendered speechless — breathless, even.

The girl’s speech, even when she had admitted how she didn’t care for the director’s show, resonates with the director. To become someone else. To become someone better. It leaves a melancholy smile on the director’s face. A love she’s felt for so long… and someone understands it. 

Even the fact that the girl manages to change her act throughout the audition tape had proven her dedication to her resolve. She recalls the way the girl on the screen held herself. The biting of those thin pale lips, eyes darting away from the camera, hands shaking as they held each other, her legs buckling in, struggling to keep up her posture.  All of which had blossomed into something stronger than the porcelain doll she walked in as. Truly admirable. Memorable.

The director touches her cheeks and feels them grow warm from this girl’s impression. Embarrassed from her discovering her warm cheeks, she gasps in the dark room. 

This auditioner stands out as one of the strongest individuals she has seen from all of the auditions so far. The girl even outshines her fan of a brother. 

The director has to. She has to let this girl become a part of the new season. She has to take both her and her brother in. They both demonstrated that both of them are perfect characters for her new season. 

The director places a hand on the screen of her computer, finger tracing the window screen of the audition tape. This girl. Her familial love and dedication to her role as a sister. The least that the director can do is let this girl’s wishes come true.

To let her become someone stronger so she can love more efficiently. To let her be able to express her love in strength and let her experience the same love of being someone totally new the same way that the director experiences.

Almost immediately looking at the girl’s frozen determined face, the director’s mind brightens with an idea for this girl’s character. She knows exactly what she wants to do for this girl. Ah, yes. Decorate this girl with lace. Thin white spiderwebs upon black fabric. A uniform dress of black and white marking her dedication to her duty. Her selfless devotion to do anything for those she loved. For  _ all  _ that she loved. The Perfect Ultimate Maid. That is exactly what this girl must be — that is how the director must fulfill this girl’s request.

Oh… but the poor girl. She fails to realize the truth of the games. In that, the director apologizes to the beautifully fragile woman.

Such a shame that the new Ultimate Maid won’t remember her beloved relation with the Ultimate Detective. But perhaps there will be a surprising turn of events. The thought leaves the director with glee. 

So, she welcomes two characters with open arms, certain that they will make a perfect addition to the new cast. Welcome… to the Ultimate Detective and the Ultimate Maid.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> This ends the second planned fic for my pregame Kirumi. Thank you for reading!


End file.
